


Colours

by kissperingniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry-one sided, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissperingniall/pseuds/kissperingniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine a world without colour. Imagine how mundane and simple everything would be. Imagine a simple boy from Cheshire making his way through his normal daily life and he catches a glimpse of it. Blue. The only colour that had seemingly been calling his name since he could remember. </p><p>Imagine only seeing colour when you've found your soul mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colours

**Author's Note:**

> So I want to note that I will not be continuing this fanfic. HOWEVER, I did rewrite it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6158164 and I will be continuing that ^__^

_I remember a time where the leaves kept falling and the world seemed too big to belong in. I remember when my hands felt so small and insignificant that no matter what I touched or did, it wasn’t enough for anybody. I seemed almost invisible, lifeless, colourless. I didn’t understand it. Everything always seemed colourless. The walls were gray, the carpet was white, the sinks, counters, furniture, my clothes, all of them were entirely in grayscale._

_This wasn’t abnormal for me, or for most it seemed. We all grew up in a grayscaled world._

_I asked my parents why it was like that, when I was a child. Of course, they only patted my head and told me one day I would understand. It didn’t make sense. I knew of colours. Red, green, yellow, purple, blue. Oh blue sounded like a lovely colour. The sound of its name made me feel warm inside, caressing my heart and igniting it with such kindness that I couldn’t understand it._

_It always made me wonder what about blue was so fascinating, but throughout the years, I didn’t seem to find any answers._

_Well, up until a few days ago._

 

*

 

“C’mon Hazza! We’re gonna be late for work if you don’t hurry your lazy arse up!” Louis’ voice called from the kitchen and Harry grumbled in his sleep. He didn’t want to wake up, suffered through a mighty fit of sleep from the last night and figured today would be his off day. But as Louis would have it, that’s not the case. As much of a slacker as Louis can be, he always firmly believed in being punctual for any commitment one had, including work.

They worked in this quaint bakery down the block where it always smelled like biscuits and cinnamon. It was Louis’ absolute favorite place to be, so Harry wasn’t exactly surprised when Louis didn’t slack there. Of course, Harry excelled more in the kitchen, but Louis was fantastic with the customers and Mrs. Porter was this sweet old lady that practically entrusted her entire business in the hands of Louis and Harry. It was sort of surreal.

So he felt a sense of guilt thinking about ditching on work and reluctantly climbed out of bed to quickly get ready.

 

“You twat, did you stay up all night wanking?”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “No! God, why do you always come to those sort of conclusions?”

Louis laughed. It sounded like yellow and Harry was suddenly confused. How would he know what yellow sounded like? “Hah, you said cum.”

Harry shoved him. “Did not. You bloody perv. Where do you come off talking about wanking when I hear you do it all the time?”

“That, my friend, is because I do, do it all the time and I think you should do it more than your usual once a month guilt wank.”

Harry was stunned. “I do not have a guilt wank.”

“That’s not what I hear when I pass by the bathroom every first of the month.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry grumbled. “You’re ridiculous. Don’t speak to me.”

Louis pulled him into a side hug. “Oh but Hazza, that’s the thing about best friends, they can’t stop talking to each other.”

Sadly, it was more than true for them. Louis did most of the talking because he said Harry’s voice was too slow to tell most stories, but in private, he’d listen to Harry talk all day if he could. Somehow that felt like pink for him, right in the pit of his chest, but what was pink? He couldn’t identify it, but was ever more curious about it.

 

Setting up for work was always a simple job for them. They opened at ten, and the second they flipped the sign, there’d be a customer within seconds. Harry didn’t blame the flock of people, he was pretty damn good at baking. Throughout the day, everything seemed pretty normal and mundane. Harry was getting into his usual rhythm, stocking the front items when someone walked through the door and left him almost breathless. Slowly rising to his feet from his crouched perch, Harry eyed this new customer with the utmost curiosity. He had cleverly quaffed hair that appeared fluffy but had to have been tousled with so much gel, he was wearing dark Ray Bans, a Ramones t-shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans. He almost had the same style as Harry, and that intrigued him.

What really caught his attention was when he came up to the counter, perused the selection of pastries’, eyed Harry through his sunglasses and asked for everything.

Harry shook his head and scratched the inside of his ear with his pinky. “Erm… sorry?”

The man smiled and spoke with a very thick, and very sexy Irish accent. “I sed, I would like to buy everythin’.” Harry almost fell to his knees in shock. He’d just made all the stock for the next hour and a half and hadn’t started on the next batch yet. Louis braced Harry the second he returned to the counter and smiled at the customer.

“That’s very generous of you, sir, but may I ask why you want to buy everything?”

“Me mum’s been talkin’ bout dis place fer months now and she’s sick and I wanted t’ surprise her with it, but I can’t be bringing a whole bunch of sweets t’ her and not the other patients. It wouldn’t feel right.”

Harry understood now. “Here’s what we’ll do then,” he pulled out an order sheet and started writing down the list of items he was requesting. “I’ll make everything fresh and deliver it to the hospital for you, okay?”

The man beamed up at him and it felt yellow. Harry shook the idea away, ignoring whatever his brain was trying to decipher and focusing on the task at hand. “That sounds like a lovely idea. Thanks, mate.”

“Of course, just let me known if you need anything else. Now, I just need your name and the address of the hospital and I’ll get right on the order.” Harry instructed and the man did as he was asked. He paid before leaving and headed out the door as quickly as he arrived.

Harry looked at the order sheet and smiled slightly at the slanted handwriting. “Niall Horan, huh? What a peculiar name.”

 

*

 

Upon reaching the hospital, Harry trudged up to the front doors with his delivery. He’d have to make two trips, but that was okay. He walked up to the front desk and was about to speak when Niall’s voice cheered to the left of him, “Hey, over here.”

Turning to face him, Harry smiled at the Irish lad, appreciating how incredibly happy he appeared, hoping it was because of him that Niall was that excited. “Order for a one Niall Horan?” He amused and Niall took the box of pastries’ merrily.

“Is that it?”

“Definitely not. There’s two more boxes in the truck.”

Without another word, Niall moved towards the truck, helping Harry with the rest of the delivery. “I really appreciate this, mate. Me mum is goin’ t’ be so happy now.”

The rest of his interaction with Niall wasn’t exactly climatic, but there was one part about the whole exchange that stood out to Harry. It was the moment that he was leaving the hospital and Niall walked him out to his truck. He had placed his hand lightly on Harry’s arm in a friendly gesture, but for a split second the world was filled with colour. All sorts of colours that Harry didn’t know the names to, but he knew what they were as a whole. Looking into Niall’s eyes, all he could see was blue—or at least what felt like blue. Bright blue with speckles of a bright colour he wanted to call yellow because it made him happy.

But just as quick as the colours came, they went and Harry was left befuddled, uncertain if Niall had experienced the same as he had. They didn’t exchange words before parting ways, but the moment Harry reached his truck, Niall returned to his side and had passed him a sheet of paper with his number on it.

“Call me. Or text me. I don’t care which.” His normally cheerful voice was firm and determined and all Harry could do was nod.

 

*

 

“Lou… have you ever seen a colour before?” Harry asked randomly, looking over his book to watch Louis move about the living room picking up his mess he made when he spilled the bowl of cereal.

Louis peeped his head up and looked to Harry curiously. “Colour? Isn’t that like… some sort of fairy tale that our parents told us before we went to bed?”

Harry shrugged, diving his hand into a bag of crisps. “I’m not so sure anymore though. I mean… I think I got a glimpse of colour today.”

There was dead silence in their apartment and it was eerily chilling. Then suddenly everything felt yellow the second Louis started laughing. “Haha, you’re kidding right? You saw colour like it’s an actual thing. Okay, yeah, and I’m secretly a unicorn, but don’t tell anyone.”

“I’m serious Louis. Laugh at me all you want, but I saw blue for the first time. It’s more beautiful than I ever thought it’d be.”

“Yeah okay, so let’s say we go along with this colour thing, what spurred it to happen?” Louis entertained, sitting on the couch with Harry. They stayed their distance as usual, but something nagged at Harry to reach out for Louis. So he grabbed his hand and stared at him, waiting for a reaction. “H-Harry…?”

“Dammit,” he pulled away, deeming it useless and lowered his head in failure. “It worked when Niall touched my arm today.” He got up, defeated and trudged towards his bedroom. “Sorry, Lou, maybe I imagined the whole thing.”

Louis watched him go, but stared at his palms in disbelief.

“Such beautiful green eyes…”


End file.
